


Mad Max: Friendship Slayer

by stardustandswimmingpools



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Boys Being Boys, Cute, F/M, Female Friendship, Fluff, Friendship, Geeky, Gen, HI I LOVE MAX HARGROVE GOODBYE, Jealousy, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Squad, anyway, bc shes fuckin adorable, by an author who has never played dungeons and dragons, dungeons & dragons mentioned briefly, el is the clincher, except that el doesnt even realize thats what it is, found family kind of, i think YES, is the official group name AV Club?, kind of a meet-cute but not really, please read the notes gang thanks, shes my fucking fav, sorry i like adverbs so fucking much, sorry lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-26 20:51:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12565948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustandswimmingpools/pseuds/stardustandswimmingpools
Summary: Max just wants to be in the party, but it seems like there are two party members who really don't want her there - and she's determined to change that.





	1. Eleven

**Author's Note:**

> hello i don't know anything about dungeons and dragons  
> also these things  
> \- max is literally perfect and id die for her. i love you sadie sink  
> \- mileven is and will always be my otp to die for theyre so cute!! tf  
> \- i love punk el she's so bitchin wtf  
> \- max deserves to be in the av club!!! let her be a part of it!!! stop being stupid mike!!!  
> \- max is really trying hard to be a better person and not a mean person which she is succeeding at  
> \- not sure when exactly this takes place but assume it's after the s2 finale like a couple weeks afterwards maybe? december ish?  
> \- stranger things 2 was the best tv show ive ever laid eyes on and what the fuck how am i supposed to wait a whole YEAR before stranger things 3???? FUCK!!
> 
> this is a two-chapter fic - barely a fix-it but kind of a fix-it? and im posting it hastily bc i have to go shower like right now. but please enjoy and leave a comment and all!!! idk if you know this but your comments mean the whole entire world to me so. do it. cool thanks enjoy the story

Being included in the boys’ party is wicked cool. Mike is still reluctant to having Max around, but the return of the famous Eleven has improved his mood drastically. They usually don’t let her join their campaign (it is Mike’s basement and Mike’s campaign, after all, and therefore his prerogative), but being a part of it at all — just being  _ there _ — is better than being at home, or wasting money at the arcade by herself. So she pulls up a chair at the table and watches them geek the hell out over orcs and elves and fireballs and whatnot.

On no particular Tuesday, Ms. Wheeler calls down the stairs, “Mike, your friend is here!”

Mike’s eyes light up and he says, “Pause, you guys. El is here.”

He looks just about prepared to stand up when Eleven descends the staircase, treading lightly the way she always does — as if she’s worried that walking too hard will leave footprints.

“El!” Mike says. There’s an unmistakable lilt in his voice when he says her name, a cheery disposition he inevitably adopts whenever Eleven walks into the room. Eleven gets the same way, but less obviously. Her lips turn upwards, subtly. Her eyes crinkle with joy.

“Hi, Mike,” she says, smiling gently. “Dustin, Lucas, Will.”

“Hey, El,” Lucas says, waving distractedly. He’s studying the board intently. Probably trying to decide if it’s a good idea to take the Path of No Return that Mike had offered a moment ago. The other option, of course, is to face the Doom Bridge, which is guarded by a troll. Either one could hold great treasures, but both also contain danger “beyond compare”. “Mike, can we get back to the game, please?”

“El, do you wanna play?” Max offers kindly, trying to ignore the fact that she’d been ignored in Eleven’s greetings. “These boys could really use your help. They won’t stop arguing.”

“We are not  _ arguing _ !” Dustin protests.

“Yeah, it’s called strategizing!” Lucas agrees.

“It’s arguing,” Will interjects.

El’s eyes slide over to Max, and her smile fades. She’s only just reached the bottom of the stairs, but one glance has her turning around and climbing back up them.

“El? Where are you going?” Mike calls after her, sounding worried.

Dustin looks awkwardly at Max’s face. “She’s never really been good at tact —”

“I’ll talk to her,” Mike says quickly, moving to stand.

“No,” Max interrupts. “I will.”

Dustin, Lucas, Will, and Mike exchange a four-way look. Max is fully aware of the meaning this look holds:  _ bad idea. _ Then again, these boys are kind of notorious for their bad ideas.

“Keep playing,” she insists. “And by the way, you should definitely take down the troll.”

“That’s what I _ said _ !” Will exclaims.

“Max, come on! I thought we were friends!” Dustin groans.

Max grins and pushes her chair out, following El up the stairs to the landing.

Mr. and Ms. Wheeler, who have apparently given up on trying to keep track of what their children are doing, are in the living room watching TV. They don’t notice when Max comes upstairs, so she walks past that room and finds El sitting at the table in the kitchen, aggressively munching on an Eggo waffle.

“El,” Max says. The girl’s head snaps up, and when her eyes focus on Max, they turn stormy.

“Go away,” she says. It’s remarkable, Max thinks, how with so few words Eleven can convey so much.

“No,” Max says. Two can play this stubborn game. She sits at the table. El resolutely stays, shielding her eyes from Max’s.

When there’s no response, Max goes on, “I don’t get it. What’s your problem with me?”

El doesn’t answer, just stares at the table. She’s taken to tearing the waffle into small pieces on the tabletop and putting the crumbs in a small pile.

“Why won’t you even talk to me?” Max presses, exasperated. “What did I ever do to you?”

El looks up sharply. “Mike is...your friend,” she says flatly.

Max snorts. “Hardly. Mike barely even likes me. I had to work hard just to get here, trust me.”

This admission seems to only further bewilder El, who begrudgingly replies. “But...I saw you. In the gym. Together.” She says  _ together _ with the utmost distaste.

Max’s eyes widen. “Wait, you saw us?” She pauses. “Oh my god, you yanked my skateboard with your mind! You made me fall off!” El has the decency to look ashamed. Max tries to compute these facts: Eleven was at the school the day that D’Artagnan ran off; she saw Max skating in circles around Mike, making him laugh in spite of himself; she pulled Max’s skateboard with her mind and sent Max falling to the floor.

The realization smacks her in the face. “Oh my god. You’re  _ jealous _ !”

Eleven’s face softens in confusion. “Jealous?”

Max rolls her eyes. “Yeah, like — you think I like Mike or something, and you’re mad at me because of it. Well, I swear on my life, I don’t like Mike. And he  _ definitely  _ doesn’t like me. Not like that, maybe not at all.”

Blessedly, it looks like Eleven believes her. There’s a powerful conviction in Max’s words, because she knows they’re true, and there is no better way to sound convincing than if the thing you’re saying is true. El’s face melts into relief, and she twists her fingers uncertainly.

“Promise?” she asks.

Max does not realize, just then, how important a promise is to El: how much it means to her, how binding it is. But regardless: she says it in this low, earnest voice, and Max feels compelled to promise. 

“Yes,” she says dryly. “I promise I won't steal your boyfriend.”

Eleven cocks her head. “Boyfriend?”

Max blinks. “Like…” She shakes her head. The lack of worldly knowledge El possesses is astonishing. “You don’t know about boyfriends? Girlfriends? Relationships?”

“Relationships,” El repeats. “Like Nancy and Jonathan.”

“Sure,” Max says. “Although I’m pretty sure Nancy is in a relationship with Steve. Steve is her boyfriend.”

El furrows her brow, but thankfully doesn’t pursue the topic. Max doesn’t know a lot about Steve Harrington’s love life, and she really doesn’t want to get into it.

“Mike is...my boyfriend?” Eleven asks slowly. 

Max shrugs. “I don’t know. You’ll have to figure that out with him.” She laughs harshly. “He definitely wouldn’t tell me, that’s for sure.”

El sighs. “I’m sorry for being...a brat.”

The way that she says _ brat _ makes it seem like she’s testing the word out. Max has heard her say things this way before — as if someone has said something to her, and she’s not sure what it means. She wonders who on earth could ever call Eleven a brat. Jealousy aside, El is the most polite individual on the planet.

“It’s all good,” Max says, grinning. “Look — between you and me, I think we should stick together. Dustin and Mike and Lucas and Will are all great, but it’s really good to have another girl around. I mean,” she amends quickly, “I know you were here first, I just…”

El eyes her. Max wants to say it’s a calculating glance, although it’s a little bit too hesitant to be that. Finally El leans forward, just a little bit. “Friends?” she asks, tentatively.

Max exhales in relief. “Yeah. Friends. Cool.”

This seems to satisfy Eleven, who shoves the rest of her waffle in her mouth and says in a muffled voice, “Let’s go.”

Max is about to ask what she means when she realizes El is headed downstairs. With a sort of self-satisfied smile, Max follows, and nearly crashes into El, who’s stopped short after almost running into Mike, who’d been taking the stairs by twos.

“Whoa! El! Max…! Are you guys...okay?” Mike asks, sounding frazzled.

Max smirks. “What, you think we can’t take care of ourselves?”

Mike regards her. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“We’re friends,” El says reassuringly, putting her hand in Mike’s. Max wonders if she’s aware that she’d done so. Probably not. Eleven is just about the most innocent, sweetest girl, and if they’re holding hands, it’s because she genuinely feels like that’s the thing that needs to be done. 

If only all people would shed their ulterior motives.

Max smiles knowingly at Mike’s steadily reddening cheeks. “Yeah. El and I are friends. That means we share secrets and stuff.”

“Secrets?” El echoes.

“El doesn’t keep secrets,” Mike says sharply. Then, to El, with a reverent softness in his voice: “A secret is something that you don’t tell other people. Something private.”

“Like a lie?”

Mike hesitates. “Kind of.”

“But…” El shakes her head. “But friends don’t lie.”

“ _ Exactly, _ ” Mike says dryly, glaring at Max. “Come on.”

Max sighs as they make their way downstairs. El was really just level one. If she’s really going to ever be fully integrated into this group, she’s gonna have to beat the boss battle.

She’ll have to get Mike to like her, somehow.


	2. Mike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to beat the boss. Max confronts Mike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im a little on the fence about this characterization of Mike, and frankly of Max as well (max is new and it's a lil harder to pin her down i guess) so lemme know what you think??  
> also yes, Max and Mike are two of the most important people in El's life, because El has never had a boyfriend or a best friend (especially not one who's a girl), and these things are very exciting  
> featuring me, making up a tragic backstory for Max  
> that's all! enjoy this!

It’s raining hard outside, and the sunlight is dimmed by gray storm clouds that swallow the sky and turn it to mush. Max stares grimly upwards. She’s going to prove her worth, rain or shine.

She gets on her skateboard. She’s been told approximately a billion times by her mom how dangerous it is to ride her board in the rain, but Max can handle a couple scrapes. Besides, she rarely falls.

So with a push against the damp pavement of their driveway, she takes off down the road.

* * *

_ Knock knock. _ Max lowers her fist from the Wheelers’ front door and waits, shivering from her drenched hoodie and clutching her board to her chest. She’s trying to look impressive and confident, but it’s hard when you feel like your bones have been iced.

From inside, she hears the unmistakable voice of Mike Wheeler exclaim eagerly, “El!” and thinks,  _ shit. _ Already a bad start and she hasn’t said anything yet. If Mike is expecting El, he’s going to be bitterly disappointed.

The door swings open and Max comes face-to-face with Mike’s rapidly dissolving smile. “Oh,” he says flatly. “It’s you.”

“Can I come in?” Max asks.

Mike eyes her watchfully. “I guess.”

He steps away from the doorframe and Max steps over the threshold. Maybe he’d just taken pity on her — she’s still shivering like crazy — but either way she’s grateful for the blast of warm air that hits her. “Thanks,” she says, stepping a bit further into the room to allow Mike to shut the door, but not so far that she’ll trek water all over the place.

“What are you doing here?” Mike asks. He sounds very much like he wants to demand an answer but maybe his opinion of her has changed because he doesn’t sound as tightly wound as he once had. “You can put your shoes on the mat.”

Max kicks her sneakers off and leaves them on the welcome mat. The cold linoleum seeps through the soles of her socks, but she doesn’t mention it. She leans her skateboard against the corner next to the door, and then says, as commandingly as she can manage, “I need to talk to you.”

Mike sighs. “Why?”

“Can we go downstairs?” Max continues, glancing around. She doesn’t want to cause a scene.

Mike sighs again. He turns and heads towards the basement and Max follows.

“You have like six minutes, okay? El is on her way,” he says.

Max sits down onto the couch and crosses her arms and her legs. Mike does the same on the opposite end of the sofa. “Fine. I need to know why you don’t like me, and what I can do to change that.”

Mike glares at her. “I already told you, we don’t need another member of our party. We have five people. And now El is back, so we aren’t missing anyone. Why don’t you just make other friends?”

Max is taken aback by the harshness in Mike’s voice. She wonders if she’s misjudged him, but more likely is that he’s just defensive.

So Max plays a card.

“I’m not good at making friends,” she says bluntly. If nothing else, this admission surprises Mike into listening. “In California I had a couple of girlfriends, but all they ever did was gossip and be mean to me behind my back. They called me names. They were bitchy. Life wasn’t fun in California. When we moved here I wasn’t that excited, and then Dustin and Lucas invited me to be in your party, and that was the nicest thing anyone had ever asked of me, ever.” Stubborn, Max tucks her chin into her neck and looks down at her socks. They’re fraying a bit at the toes. “I’ve never had guy friends, but you guys are so uncomplicated. It’s much easier to be friends with you than to be friends with girls. All the girls are bitches.”

“El’s not a bitch,” Mike says quickly.

Max sighs exasperatedly. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Yeah, but —” Mike squirms uncomfortably. “What if you tear our friend group apart? You already pitted Dustin and Lucas against each other,” he points out.

Max throws her hands in the air. “Jesus, Mike! I don’t want a boyfriend! I just want a  _ friend! _ ” 

The room falls silent, and Max, chest heaving from her outburst, stares sullenly at the couch.

“You can’t replace El,” Mike says quietly. Max refuses to look at him now, but his voice has less of an edge to it. It almost sounds — like he’s giving in. Or at least like he’s compromising.

So Max tries to keep her temper and compromise, too. “I don’t want to replace El,” she says factually. “And even if I did, she’s back, so I couldn’t. But I don’t  _ want _ to. I like El! We’re friends! I just want to be in your party. That’s all.” She sighs tiredly. “Don’t you know what it’s like to want to be included?”

She’s struck a nerve, or  _ something _ . In Max’s periphery she sees Mike turn to look at her, so she looks up, and his expression is...yielding. Not exactly giving up. Just...forgiving, in a way. Letting her in.

Max smiles tentatively. 

Then the doorbell rings.

Mike all but leaps out of his seat and bounds up the stairs. Max follows as quickly as she dares, so that when she reaches the landing she’s watching Mike open up the front door to El’s shining face.

“El!” he says, unabashed thrill filling his voice.

El hugs Mike tightly. They do that a lot lately, and generally. Hug, that is. Constantly. It’s like they both think the other person will vanish if they’re not holding on tight enough.

Based on what Max knows, though, that’s probably what they’re thinking. Max can’t help but think that if it was her, she’d do the same. Losing someone you care that much about can’t have been easy. And it’s clear — abundantly so — that Mike cares deeply and profoundly about Eleven, and vice versa.

When they break apart (still holding hands, God, they’re cute, it would almost be sickening if Max weren’t so happy for her new friend), El spots Max. “Max!” And then her eyes flit between Max (hanging back so as not to intrude on their moment) and Mike. Her eyes turn uneasy. “Hi,” she says awkwardly.

“Hey,” Max says, determined not to let Mike’s stupid grudge get in the way of her friendship with El. “How are you?”

“Good,” El says, and there’s a genuine smile to her face, sort of hidden. She holds out a hand, and when Max steps closer she sees a sloppy nail-polish job painted on by someone who probably cared a lot about El and didn’t know the first thing about nail polish.

Hopper, definitely.

“Nail polish,” El says proudly. “Hopper did it.”

Max grins. “Looks pretty neat. Did you do the other hand?”

El nods and shows her. Her right hand is red; her left is black.

“Sweet,” Max says, nodding.

“It looks cool, El,” Mike says, and El immediately turns to look at Mike, her face positively glowing with delight. Max realizes: she’s getting approval from her only girlfriend and her (for all intents and purposes) boyfriend. Possibly two of the most important opinions to her, at risk of overstating Max’s own importance.

“Why’d you pick those colors?” she asks.

El tilts her hands over in the light, examining the way the overhead lighting catches the polish and gives it a sheen. “I thought…” She holds up the hand with black to Mike’s face, and he looks puzzled. El smiles, almost to herself, like she’s confirming a suspicion. “It matches.”

Mike still looks confused. Max can’t help but grin as she explains for Mike, “Your hair. It matches your hair.”

Mike blushes intensely. “Oh.” Quickly, he adds, “What about the other hand?”

El holds up the hand with the red polish, and Max assumes it’s going to be Mike again — his clothes or his favorite hoodie or his eyes or whatever the hell — but the hand is now held against Max’s face.

Max can feel  _ herself _ blushing. 

“Matching,” El repeats, smiling timidly.

“It sure does,” Max says, softly despite herself. “Thanks, El. That’s really cool.”

Mike is staring at her now, and for a second, she’s worried he’s going to kick her out, overcome with the jealousy of having to share his girlfriend.

Instead he says, “El, can you give me and Max like one minute? We won’t be long. I promise. I just need to tell her something.”

El’s face falls. “A secret?”

“Not a secret,” Mike says seriously. “Just — something that she has to know.”

“I can’t know?”

Mike shifts uncomfortably. Merciful, Max jumps in, “We were in the middle of a conversation when you came in. It’ll just take a minute to finish.” She hesitates. “Promise.”

El looks between the two of them. She regards Max with a focus that’s almost alarming. Then she reluctantly says, “Okay.”

Mike grabs Max by the wrist and drags her towards the staircase, out of earshot but not necessarily out of El’s sight. All things considered, a good choice.

“El likes you a lot,” he tells her.

Max is almost as perplexed by this as Mike appears. 

“Seems like it,” she says coolly.

Mike sighs, shifts on his feet. “Okay,” he says finally. “I think it’s okay if you’re in the party.”

Max’s face splits into a gigantic grin. “For real? Thank you! Thank you, Mike.”

“But just one thing,” Mike continues warningly. Max halts.

“What?”

“If you hurt Lucas or Dustin I will personally see to it that none of us ever speak to you again,” Mike says. He’s a nonthreatening person by nature, but the magnitude of his caring for those boys intensifies his threat. And Max believes that he believes himself. That if she hurts his friends, he will hurt her. He doesn’t seem capable of it, and she’s sure that it’s not what the majority of the boys would want; and frankly Max has no plans at all to hurt any of the boys (how would she even do that? She’s barely a party member as it is); and  _ honestly  _ there’s a slim chance that if she hurt the boys anything scarring would  _ actually _ happen to her. But Mike feels so strongly about this that he believes his own words, and that is disconcerting enough to make Max feel properly threatened.

She swallows and stands a little taller. “Agreed.”

Mike hesitates, then holds out a hand. Max shakes it, making certain to keep her grip firm and steady.

“Welcome to the party,” he says, looking into her eyes.

Max smiles widely.

“And you can stay until the rain stops,” Mike adds casually. He says it like it’s no big deal, but Max knows it is. It’s  _ character development. _ It’s Mike, being actively friendly.

“Thanks,” Max says, also casually.

Boss battle complete. Mad Max has officially beat the high score. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! and for sticking w this while I wrote chapter two (which was actually finished on the same day as i posted chapter 1, I just didn't wanna rush it lol). Tell me what you thought!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! you can find me on tumblr @vivilevone and feel free to talk to me about this, or anything. cheers!


End file.
